


Baby Mine

by thorsodinsn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorsodinsn/pseuds/thorsodinsn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He keeps his voice a low whisper as he gently rocks the baby, still swaddled in a tattered flannel shirt. Her little limbs flail against the thick fabric, her tiny face pinched and red as she wails. Shane paces the length of the room again and again and again. He bounces the newborn carefully in his arms, holding right against his chest; when one pink fist unfurls from the flannel she grasps at Shane’s own shirt." || In the aftermath of Lori's death, and despite Rick's absence, Shane and the group band together to care for baby Judith. || S3 AU || ShaneLives!AU || Slight Shane/Daryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Mine

                “Shh, s’alright. C’mon, sweetheart, it’s okay. Shh.”

                He keeps his voice a low whisper as he gently rocks the baby, still swaddled in a tattered flannel shirt. Her little limbs flail against the thick fabric, her tiny face pinched and red as she wails. Shane paces the length of the room again and again and again. He bounces the newborn carefully in his arms, holding right against his chest; when one pink fist unfurls from the flannel she grasps at Shane’s own shirt.

                “Shh, that’s it,” he murmurs as her cries change upset gurgles. He rests one hand on her belly and can all but feel her little stomach rumbling. Again, his eyes dart toward the window; he strains to see through the tiny slit in the wall, squints past the think bars to see outside.

                He hears them before he sees them—the roar of Daryl’s chopper is unmistakable. The gate rattles as Glenn races to pull it open, then jobs to unburden Maggie of her bags. Shane looks to Beth, pleased to find she’s already grabbing for a bottle. The thought strikes him that it should be Lori preparing her daughter’s first bottle. It should be Lori cradling her newborn in her arms, soothing her, calming her, reassuring her. They’re fleeting thoughts, shaken away by the cough and wail of the infant still squirming in his arms.

                “Shh, shh, I’ve got you.” There’s a flurry of motion as Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie rush in. A box of formula is passed from hand to hand to hand and Beth is quick to mix it up under her father’s watchful eye. Carl lingers among the group, shoulders set seriously, jaw tight, and he follows behind Daryl when the hunter swipes the bottle from Beth and hurries toward Shane.

                “That’s dinner,” Daryl mutters, handing the bottle over. One hand hovers over the small of Shane’s back and the other on the cop’s forearm, thumb brushing over the baby’s back as Shane carefully coaxes her to take the bottle. She turns her face away at first, a disgruntled huff breezing past her thin lips.

               “She won’t eat?” Carl asks, voice laced with concern. He worries at his lower lip, watching his baby sister, breath bated with anticipation. Beth’s hand lands gently on his shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze.

               “Give her a minute,” Hershel says. His crutches click loudly against the floor as he hobbles closer, stealing a glance at the newborn over Shane’s shoulder. The baby’s eyes open and she peers up at Shane. She holds his gaze, curiosity alight in eyes that remind him, almost eerily, of Lori. It must show in his face—why else would Daryl give his arm a squeeze? Shane adjusts his grip on the bottle and offers it again, this time to a much warmer welcome.

               “There you go,” he says, smile spreading across his features. Relief uncoils in his chest as she suckles, and it seems to spread all around the room. Daryl drops his tense shoulders and the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. Glenn and Maggie both sigh, leaning into one another as they each squeeze the other’s hand. Beth and Carl practically laugh, joy bubbling in them so high it overflows.

               “You like that, sweetheart?” Daryl coos, earning a chuckle out of everybody. “Huh? Little Asskicker?”

              “Asskicker?” Shane asks. Another ripple of giggles flutters through the group as Daryl’s eyes flit up to meet Shane’s. The cop’s got one eyebrow raised, but his smile gives him away.

              “What?” Daryl asks. “S’as good a name as any.”

               Shane hums in thought, looking back to the baby. He tilts the bottle as she greedily drains the last of its contents. “Suits her.”

               “Here,” Beth says. She holds out her hand for the empty bottle, which Shane passes to her. The baby gurgles, her squirming resumed almost the minute the nipple popped free from her mouth.

               “You got her?” Daryl asks, hands still hovering over both Shane and the baby.

               “M’fine,” he replies. He shifts her carefully, propping the infant against his shoulder, one arm under her bottom to hold her steady and the other hand rubbing gentle circles against her back. He hears the snick of a zipper behind him and glances past Hershel to see Maggie rifling through one of the backpacks she and Daryl had stuffed on their run.

               “We found this,” she says, fishing a pink blanket out of the bag. She passes it to Daryl, who helps Shane free the baby from Carl’s blue flannel and wrap her in the clean fleece. The baby coos when the warm softness hits her skin and Shane’s smile widens. He presses a light kiss to her head before turning back to Maggie.

               “I’d say she likes it,” he says. “Diapers?”

               “We found some,” Daryl answered. “Got enough to keep ‘er goin’ a good week, maybe two.”

               “Maggie’s scouted other places,” Glenn adds.

               “Glenn and I can do another run, Maggie says.

               “Long as we got a plan,” Shane says, nodding. The baby coos again, her head snuggles in the crook of Shane’s neck. He hums lowly, a building rumble in his chest that matches an old lullaby he remembers in his mother’s voice.

               “What’ll we do about Rick?” Hershel says suddenly. The room goes quiet. Shane goes still, save for one hand still massaging tiny circles against the baby’s back. Carl goes tense. Daryl straightens, one hand brushing over Shane’s back as his eyes sweep the room.

               “Anybody seem ‘im?”

               “I did. In the tombs,” Glenn offers. “He—He didn’t look good.”

               “He’ll be alright,” Shane says quietly. He sighs, picks up his humming for a few beats but failing to get melody back. He shakes his head and adjusts the infant in his arms. “Everyone keep your eyes on him. Watch out for him. Carl?” The boy’s eyes shoot up to Shane’s. “I don’t want you worryin’. Your dad, he’ll come around.”

               Carl considers these words before answering with a small, “Okay.”

               “I want someone out on watch. After today, we could have lurkers clingin’ to the fences. We might still have some weak spots; I ain’t chancin’ any walkers gettin’ through.”

               “I’ll take tonight,” Daryl offers.

               “You sure, man? I’ll cover it. You did the run today—“

               Daryl shakes his head, and Glenn is quick to jump in. “I’ll take it. Daryl can take the morning.”

               “You stay with her,” Daryl says, nodding towards the baby now dozing on Shane’s shoulder.  

               “Alright,” Shane concedes. Glenn is quick to grab for his gun, his knife, to arrange them on his belt and to kiss Maggie for heading for the guard tower. His footsteps echo down the hall until the swing of squeaking hinges swallows them up.

               “Hey,” Daryl says, grasping at Shane’s infant-free shoulder. “Go rest. Things’re covered for tonight.”

               Shane meets his eyes; he sweeps his gaze across the whole room, seeing the exhaustion he feels deep in his own bones reflected back through each and every face he sees. “Y’all heard the man.”

               There’s a beat of silence before boots scuff over the concrete floor. Beth and Maggie link arms, and Maggie holds her hand over her father’s back as he limps with them down the hall. Shane watches the small family’s backs retreat before turning to Carl. “You wanna take your sister? Go on to my cell, alright? I’ll meet you there.”

               Carl nods, extending his skinny arms for Shane to settle the baby in them. When Shane warns him to be careful, Carl simply tells him, “I got her.”

               “Alright. Go on. I’ll just be a minute.”

               The boy and the baby, too, vanish down the hall and only when they’re gone does Shane exhale a heavy sigh. He scrubs his hands over his face and thinks that he can feel the goddamn worry lines carved there over mere hours. He doesn’t realize Daryl is rubbing his back until the hunter hits a knot that wound itself just that morning, one he woke up with, one he’d all but forgotten about in the panic and the chaos and the fear.

               “Shh,” Daryl soothes when Shane sucks in his breath sharply. “You okay?”

               Shane doesn’t answer for a long while. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, digging the heels of his hands against them until he sees bright red spots popping over the backs of his lids. He leans into Daryl’s touch as the hunter kneads muscle under calloused fingers. “Hm?” he prompts.

               “— I will be.”


End file.
